Quintessence
by WriterNicole
Summary: (Formerly titled Betwixt and Between) What if Loki wasn't the only one who fell off the Bifrost? And everything after, was to save the one who jumped after him? Can fire and ice find a way to save each other? Eventual Loki/Sigyn.
1. Chapter 1

******_-~*o*~-_I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING, EXCEPT MY VERSION OF SIGYN. IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE A LOKI MOVIE. **_-~*o*~-_********

**Set During Thor (2011)**

**Chapter One**

Loki is different.

She can see it in his eyes, the anguish that has taken permanent residency there. Most do not see beyond the calm, collected face that Loki presents to the world. Sigyn has always been able to read him.

At first, that was why he wanted her around. Because she was a threat. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Lately it has been something more.

But Sigyn sees him, passing silently in the halls, eyes haunted and tortured.

Some of it, of course, is a result of Thor's banishment—only just that day—an expected shock to most of Asgard.

But not much.

Sigyn is well aware of Loki's feelings on that matter, and for the most part shares them. Banishment was a little harsh, but what else was the Allfather to do?

The anguish that no one else sees stems from a greater source. Sigyn reached out, she tried to find out why, and was met with the brick wall of a sorcerer protecting his mind from intrusion.

Immediately after, Sigyn confronted Loki. He only brushed her aside. It does not hurt—Loki always brushes everyone's concerns away, like stray dust. What hurts is how his eyes look even more tortured. How this seems to be different—something only Loki can bear.

Sigyn does not know how to help him.

That helplessness is enough to drive her to the Queen. Sigyn and Frigga have always been close—on the surface, sharing little more than Loki. But deeper—they are confidants. Frigga is brilliant, but quiet about it, more observing; and sharp with truth. It is one of many things Sigyn has learned from her.

But Frigga cannot read Loki half as well as Sigyn.

Sigyn fears that the Queen may know what troubles Loki. She does not know if Loki will feel betrayed.

So she keeps quiet, for now. To get answers on her own. She follows him loosely, either in body or with her mind, to try and figure it out.

She sees how Loki avoids the Allfather and Frigga. Avoids everyone, even her.

She sees that Loki is not reading. Not working out a new spell or calculating some scientific theory. For once, Loki does nothing.

In a matter of a few hours, Sigyn is worried sick. And when Loki heads for the Treasury, she follows him.

~-o-~

**A/N: I promise the next chapter will be longer! I also looove reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Brief mythology lesson! Gungir is the Odin's staff thingy. Like Thor's hammer is named Mjolnir. (What is with those Asgardians naming their weapons?!) Both are supposedly made of enchanted Uru metal—a metal is unique to the Asgardian realm. It has the appearance of stone with metal properties. So there you go! (I did a little research and felt like sharing.)**

_-~*o*~-_

**Chapter Two**

After, Sigyn retreats. She has to think it over, and Loki is in no mood for company.

No _wonder_ Loki is so tormented.

_Frost Giant._

It changes nothing between them, of course. But the rest of Asgard?...some things are best kept a secret.

The real problem, of course, is Loki. He doesn't get upset by much, but Sigyn has to admit that when he does, he's a bit volatile. So Sigyn expects him to blow it out of proportion. Not understand—at least not at first—how little the revelation changes anything.

Except Loki himself.

Sigyn knows it will change Loki. At best, she can hope for it to pass after a few years. But the fact remains that Sigyn does not know _how much_ it will change him. Or for how long.

Sigyn sits quietly in her chambers, staring mindlessly at the fireplace, slumped hopelessly in a soft chair. Sigyn cannot remember the last time she has slumped while sitting up. She sits up straight or goes to bed, and that's all there is to it.

But this…Oh, Norns. Is she blind? This changes _everything_. Loki's entire world has fallen apart, and she sits here staring into a fire. Some friend.

_A fire._ Sigyn recalls hundreds of times, hundreds of occasions, hundreds of places—why does everything remind her of Loki?

Sigyn jumps from her chair immediately, completely certain that Loki needs her. Especially now. His brother exiled—_Thor never listened anyway, and his thick-headedness was responsible for most of the scars_—and Loki has no other friends. Loki decidedly does not have friends. He has allies, and likes to keep it that way.

He has enemies, too.

Sigyn passes a mirror on her way out of her bedchambers, and catches sight of her hair—tangled, frizzy, nasty. Sigyn huffs, considers casting a spell to cover it up—a glamour—but decides against it. It'd be a waste, and Sigyn likes to use her magic wisely. Growling in frustration, Sigyn nearly runs out with it tangled and frizzy, but that would only result in Loki teasing her—using it as a distraction to keep her from the heart of things.

Sigyn snatches up a bone-handled brush and yanks it through her fiery red hair. It's medium length, falling to the middle of her back—most girls have hair past their waists. Sigyn has no patience for that. Most girls—here anyway—also have blond hair. Sigyn likes being different, and a good thing too, because she is so adept at it.

When her hair is smooth and wavy again, Sigyn stares in the mirror, waiting for her face to clear. Her reddish amber eyes still look worried. She waits, and waits, and waits, and the worry does not ease. Finally Sigyn gives up and storms towards the door. As she passes through it, the slight tingle of her protection spell washes over her with a visible sparkle of red. Many would call it pink, but when her magic is concentrated, the color is red like fine ruby wine.

It calms her down, eases the frustrated look. Being reminded of her magic has that effect—it reassures her in a way she can't explain.

Then the worry returns. Like a rot eating away at a wound in her heart—a wound she fears will only get bigger.

Sigyn runs like she is being chased by bilgesnipe.

Through the winding halls made of white marble and gold she runs, thankful for her breeches. Up the winding staircase, familiar to her feet.

When Sigyn arrives outside Loki's chambers, she slumps against the marble wall to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. But what good is a plan, when he will twist her words and lead her off-track? And if she is not careful they will end up talking about something else entirely.

That's assuming Loki will talk to her.

When Loki does not wish to discuss something, he does not talk about it, and it's as simple as that.

Sigyn gathers her wits about her and opens the door.

There is no lock—just a protection spell—and Sigyn is fully aware of the privilege allowing her to enter. Only Frigga can enter as easily; others must ask. A very faint green sparkle hangs in the air after Sigyn steps inside. It isn't weak—magic is always most visible to its owner. Sigyn is one of few who can see it.

The prince's chambers are quite large—nearly ten rooms—and Sigyn passes through them on silent feet. Five of the rooms are dedicated to books and studies; two, to scientific testing, where Sigyn spends most of her time; a living room, a bedroom and a pantry—Loki rarely joins the family for meals, so Frigga insisted that he always have food within reach. He _is_ rather thin.

A quick look shows that Loki is not in the first nine. His bedroom door is closed.

Loki is like a complicated chemical mixture, waiting to blow up. He's been on edge for a while now, with the looming threat of Thor's coronation—which Sigyn agrees would be a disaster. And now?

Sigyn knocks. There is no response. She waits a moment. Then, fearing what she will find, Sigyn pushes open the door.

Empty.

A mirror frame lies on the floor, glass shards and chunks scattered around it. Blood gleams on glass.

The window is open.

Loki asked specifically for the top floor.

Sigyn stays there for a moment—frozen—then gasps air, dashes across the room, grabs the window frame and thrusts her head and shoulders out into the open air.

Far below—

Streets. Buildings. A spectacular skyline. No sign of Loki.

Sigyn gasps again, relieved—draws back inside and shuts the window. Foolish of her, to jump to such a terrible conclusion—he would likely survive the fall anyway.

But where could he have gone? To Frigga?

Sigyn runs out of the rooms, out back into the hall, and clatters down stairs like the very dogs of Hel are nipping at her heels.

Five floors down she stops and teleports herself to the hall outside Frigga's chambers. Here, too, Sigyn is allowed unquestioned access, but she knocks.

In Frigga's chambers, there are also many books, but also healing herbs and flowers and a large closet. It smells like flowers—not one or two kinds, but a mixture of roses and poppies and violets, marigolds and honeysuckle and mint and who knows what else. It is empty.

Dashing out into the hall, Sigyn feels like slapping herself. Of course, Frigga is with Odin. In his chamber reserved for the Odinsleep. Knowing Loki, he sought out Frigga, and not finding her here—went there.

How simple.

Sigyn isn't allowed into Odin's chambers—she's never had cause to go there before.

Sigyn jogs down the hall, to the next door over, and hesitates. Maybe it's not a good idea to disturb them. But she knocks—sharply and quickly before she can change her mind—and stands back.

There is no immediate reply, so Sigyn leans against the wall to wait.

After a moment she slides down the wall to a sitting position. She's exhausted. The palace is absurdly big, mostly empty, and Loki has always been one for isolation. The only time the palace is ever full—or nearly full—is the annual Collaboration, when all the realms come together. Even then the upper floors are mostly silent. Midgard has been absent for centuries.

Sigyn waits a moment, then closes her eyes and conjures up a seeing spell. It shimmers eagerly in her mind's eye. She visualizes Loki, waiting until the image is perfect and clear.

Before Sigyn can cast it, the door next to her clicks open. There is a pause, and then a light touch on her shoulder. Sigyn dismisses the spell and opens her eyes, looks up to see Frigga.

Frigga's expression is kind, but her blue eyes are full of worry.

Sigyn scrambles up. It takes only a brief glance to tell that Loki is nowhere in sight. The question burns like acid on the tip of her tongue, but Sigyn bites it back, thinking of her friend.

"How is the Allfather?"

Frigga's face eases into a small smile. "Loki is probably in the throne room."

Sigyn is startled, but only for a brief moment—_of course_, why didn't she think of it before? She smiles gratefully at Frigga. Sigyn's first instinct is to run off, but if Loki's ruling—Sigyn impulsively hugs Frigga.

"I'm so sorry."

Signy isn't sure for what, exactly, she's sorry. Thor's banishment—Odin's condition—or Loki's turmoil. All of them, she guesses. Frigga hasn't exactly had a good day.

Frigga hugs back fiercely. "I worry about him."

Sigyn draws in a sharp breath. "When…were you ever going to tell him?"

Frigga stiffens and pulls back to look her in the eye. "You know?"

Sigyn nods and swallows.

Frigga takes a sharp breath, her now-piercing eyes never leaving Sigyn's face. "And?"

Sigyn frowns slightly. "I know it doesn't change anything, but I don't think _he _knows."

Frigga relaxes considerably. "I'm glad. I told him, but—I just don't know."

Sigyn purses her lips. "I'll go see him." She takes a slight step back, but Frigga reaches to stop her.

"Sigyn?"

"Yes?"

"I trust you."

"Thank you," Sigyn says quietly.

"And…keep an eye on Sif. Please. She is so loyal to Thor…"

Sigyn frowns. "They aren't friends, but would she really do anything?"

Frigga glances around quickly and lowers her voice. "She will ask him to end the banishment."

Understanding dawns on Signy's face. "And he will refuse."

"As he should. Thor is clearly not ready."

"I'd add the Three to that list as well, my Queen."

Frigga sighs and nods, eyes worried again.

Sigyn steps back. "Fare well with thee, Frigga. I swear to you, I will do all I can."

_-~*o*~-_

**A/N: So I'd been a fan for a while, and never looked up how to pronounce 'Sigyn.' (I had ****_no clue_****, so in my mind I just kinda pronounced it 'Sin'.) So I looked it up today, and apparently it's pronounced "SEE-gin." Or "SEG-in." Huh. Weird! I guess you learn something new every day... :) **

**Hope you liked this! Review? Stay obsessed!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So how many of you actually do those 'Song for Chapter' things? I have THE PERF song for the upcoming pivotal scene on the Bifrost (the idea that got this whole thing rolling) and I guess I'm wondering if anyone would actually look it up.**

_-~*o*~-_

**Chapter Three**

Sigyn paces quickly through the halls, weaving the quickest route to the throne room. The place is mostly empty, so when Sigyn first hears voices she reacts—ducking closer to the wall, edging towards the thick golden doors—firmly shut. She recognizes Fandral's voice and does not regret her decision to spy. His voice isn't particularly loud, but it's echoing quite clearly through the doors—fool. It seems to be a rant.

"Our dearest friend banished! Loki on the throne! Asgard on the brink of war! Yet you managed to consume four wild boars, six pheasants, a side of beef and two caskets of ale! Shame on you! Don't you care?"

There is a loud clatter, and Volstagg's roar of anger—Sigyn assumes his plate has just been acquainted with the ground, and stifles back a laugh.

"Do not mistake my appetite for apathy!"

Sigyn is not sympathetic. Volstagg is a renowned glut.

Sif's sharp voice breaks them apart. "Stop it, both of you! Stop!"

A small silence; then Sif lowers her voice.

"We all know what we have to do."

"We must go. We must find Thor."

Sigyn recoils in surprise at the sound of Hogun's voice. The man rarely speaks. Then Sigyn grits her teeth and closes her eyes, to keep from rushing into the room and screaming. How dare Hogun—of the group, she had expected him to be the most loyal.

"You speak of treason!" Fandral exclaims.

Sigyn clenches her fists—surely they will be reasonable.

"To hell with treason, it's suicide!" Volstagg adds.

Sigyn holds her breath.

"Thor would do the same for us," Sif says sharply.

_Damn her_, egging them on like that, _damn her to Hel_! The miserable, rotten traitor.

"Hush! Heimdall may be watching," Volstagg says quickly.

So that's it. That's why they talk prudently. Because there's a message behind their words.

An Asgardian warrior passes Sigyn with swift steps, eyes directly in front of him, and she recoils in surprise. The man walks into the room and speaks in a clear, loud voice.

"Heimdall demands your presence."

The man turns swiftly and walks out of the room. Sigyn tenses to run but she catches the last of it. Volstagg.

"We're doomed."

Sigyn dashes away with swift, silent strides, passing two doorways before whipping back around, composing her face, and striding forward in the middle of the hall.

She passes one of the doorways, and the four guilty conspirators emerge from the room. Sigyn controls herself. What she really wants to do is run to Sif, slam her against the wall and stab her.

Instead, Sigyn looks every one of them in the eye. Quite coolly. She catches the thinly disguised guilt and adds disdain to her expression, leaving them to wonder if she knows anything before looking pointedly away.

Sigyn walks calmly down the long hall to the throne. Sigyn has always been able to hide her feelings. She looks around composedly—Sigyn has walked down this hall many times. The purpose for the long walk is to make warriors and subjects alike feel small, insignificant, and intimidated by the time they reach the throne.

Because Sigyn grasp this, it does not affect her.

When Sigyn reaches the throne, there is no hesitation when she kneels and clasps a fist to her heart. "My Liege,"

"What is it, Sigyn?"

Outwardly, Loki looks—well. The throne does suit him. His eyes, however—betray. He's worried, of course. Loki is not blind to the lack of support. And lurking beneath that is the haunting knowledge, that he is the rightful heir to another throne. Jotunheim's.

"I would ask what services my prince regent might ask of me."

Sigyn can think of no other reason to be here.

Loki does not immediately respond. His eyes take on a calculating look.

"Leave us," Loki commands. The guards walk away instantly.

Sigyn waits for them to go, and stands. Loki gets up and walks down the steps to Sigyn's level. When the guards are gone he finally drops his façade. He sighs, frustrated. "Would you believe you are the first to ask me that?"

"It's only been a few hours," Sigyn excuses, hedging to get to the heart of things.

He gives her a look, and Sigyn relents. "I know."

Loki looks away, down the hall. "I suspect treason."

Sigyn lowers her voice. "Sif."

"Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral…need I name them all? Kill them, or imprison them, and that will only incite more treason."

"They seek Thor."

"I refused."

"They're going to do it anyway. I heard them talking. Heimdall called them."

Loki gives her a sharp look. "He is sympathetic as well."

Sigyn frowns, tilting her head slightly. "He may not like you, but—"

"That's all this is about, Sigyn!" Loki exclaims, his voice growing loud. Then he lowers it to a growl, eyes darting to make sure they are alone. "Just a damn…popularity contest." Loki paces, Gungnir clenched tightly in his hand.

"Earn their respect," Sigyn says.

"How simple."

Sigyn wants to ask how Loki is faring, but now is not the time.

Sigyn folds her arms. "Surely Heimdall wouldn't."

"He would."

The strain is getting to him. If his personal turmoil wasn't enough. But Loki is hiding something else—how he knows Heimdall will betray, perhaps?

Sigyn sighs. "Is there anyone you know we can trust?"

Loki sighs. "No."

"There has to be something more I can do."

Loki whirls on her with a suddenness that Sigyn knows to expect. "Keep your eyes open. I can't watch everyone all the time."

Sigyn nods swiftly. "Send for me."

Loki nods, knowing what she means.

Sigyn steps away, casts a seeing spell, and locates the Warriors Three and Sif. They're about halfway down the rainbow bridge. Sigyn officially lacks any kind of plan with any kind of subtlety, so she teleports herself directly behind them. As she shimmers back into reality, Sigyn casts an invisibility spell, cloaking herself and masking any sound she might make.

Sif whips around. Sigyn flinches. Sif stares, looking straight through Sigyn—she can't see her.

"What is it, Lady Sif?" Volstagg says, pausing to glance behind him.

"I swear…" Sif mutters, then trails off. "Nothing. Thought I saw movement."

"Jumpy?" Fandral quips, without looking back.

Sif turns around and strides resolutely forward, catching up with the others and passing them.

Sigyn stays a little behind them, but close enough to hear. As they near Heimdall—standing there waiting—Sigyn's apprehension grows to a roar, a tightness in her throat and chest.

Heimdall speaks, almost reproachfully.

"You would defy the commands of Loki, our king? Break every oath you have taken as warriors, and commit treason to bring Thor back?"

"Yes."

Sif, as imprudent and traitorous as ever. Sigyn burns white-hot with anger, wishes wants to kill her where she stands.

"Good." Heimdall states, matter-of-factly.

Sigyn's mouth parts slightly in horror and emotion. She snaps it shut, and her eyes burn like fire, tears of _absolute fury_ coming to her eyes. Sigyn readies a spell that will create a force in the middle of the room, blowing them all back against the walls, to lay there ashamed like the murderous traitors they are.

Heimdall steps off the control platform, and Sigyn hesitates.

"So you will help us?" Sif asks.

"I am bound by honor to our king. I cannot open the bridge to you."

Heimdall walks towards the entrance to the bridge. Sigyn, still invisible, steps off to the side, staring at his impassive face as he passes.

_What?_

"Complicated fellow, isn't he?" Fandral quips from behind her.

"Now what do we do?" Volstagg says.

"Look!" Sif exclaims.

There is a crackle, and Sigyn whips back around to see the Bifrost activate on its own.

Sif and The Warriors Three run to other side of the podium just as the Bifrost begins. With a small cry Sigyn releases the spell, but the four are already hurtling through space, far away, to Midgard, beyond her reach.

Sigyn gasps, turns and runs with all her great speed down the Rainbow Bridge.

_-~*o*~-_

**A/N: Do tell me what you think. Guests can post reviews, too, w/o having to enter an email address or anything!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Yes, I know I'm late. . Sorry!**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Heimdall is walking resolutely down the Bridge, and Sigyn attacks him.

Not with a knife or short sword, but with words—accusations—things far more effective, in this case. Sigyn long since learned how to wield them.

So when she attacks Heimdall, her emotions are carefully channeled into blazing eyes and a tone dripping with scorn.

"You would _dare_ to defy the command of Loki, our king?"

Heimdall stops and turns slightly, looking down at Sigyn with quiet eyes.

"I am truly sorry, Lady Sigyn."

At that, Sigyn nearly explodes. Her hands itch to pull a dagger and leap, stabbing him in the neck, or heart.

Instead she holds his gaze. Blazing amber eyes fixed on impassive golden ones. She clenches her hands into tight, neatly curled fists.

And suddenly, Sigyn is stricken with a terrible fear. Her white-hot anger diminishes to a slight glow.

Heimdall would never betray his king.

Not unless he truly believed it to be for the good of Asgard.

The realization creeps over her like dark poison, stifling her every thought and choking her. It is not because Loki is a Frost Giant—no, Heimdall must've known that previously. _What has Loki done_?

Then Sigyn realizes that Heimdall is no longer looking at her.

She turns to see Loki, walking far faster than his usual, approaching them on the bridge. His face is hard and blank, and suddenly Sigyn is afraid, _so afraid_, that Loki is not well.

In his eyes, she sees anger tantamount.

But also—hopelessness. And fear. He looks—_lost_.

Like one adrift on a never-ending sea.

Like one falling into a bottomless abyss.

Like one slowly _dying_.

And whatever Loki has done, whatever horror he has orchestrated that Heimdall has betrayed him over it—Sigyn _cannot_, she _will not_ abandon him.

Sigyn walks forward quickly.

Somewhere along the way—walking swiftly upon the Rainbow Bridge, bursts of intense color flooding from every step—Sigyn reaches a conclusion.

Loki is a talented liar. Always has been. Nearly every emotion Loki chooses to display is a calculated one. His true feelings are much more subtle, and deep, and hidden. And often the exact opposite of what is commonly expected.

So he buries his feelings, shows the others what they expect—sarcastic, devil-may-care, and flippant—and no one thinks him capable of true sincerity.

But Sigyn knows him.

Everything Loki does is a feint, a calculation, a maneuver—a ploy to draw attention while quietly dealing with other concerns.

And whatever Loki has done, Sigyn is suddenly positive that it is just another trick.

But the thing is—everyone falls for Loki's tricks.

And if Heimdall, the one who sees all (_not all; very nearly, but not_ all…) has betrayed him—

A Sigyn nears Loki, she prepares herself. There is so much to say, so little time to say it. She must apologize—explain—inform him of Heimdall's treason (_although it is rather obvious, isn't it?_) –and tell him of her plan. Reaffirm her loyalty.

Before he can speak, Loki snaps three words and walks right past her.

"_You, too, Sigyn_?"

For a moment, Sigyn stops—frozen still. Then she whirls and finds his side, matches his quick, angry pace.

"No."

Sigyn does not explain. She does not apologize. She requests—and _expects_—his trust.

After a brief moment, Loki glances at her. Conflicted green eyes flick to hers—only very briefly—but Sigyn is surprisingly calm. Under the circumstances.

Loki looks away and strides faster. Sigyn keeps pace.

Loki is not planning to reason with Heimdall. He is walking so quickly—tense shoulders—and Sigyn fears Loki plans to kill him.

Sigyn does not even blink. Fiery amber eyes stare straight ahead.

Heimdall is a traitor, and traitors deserve to die.

The moment Loki stops, Heimdall speaks.

"Tell me, Loki, how did you lead the Jotuns into Asgard?"

There is a pause, during which Sigyn reels in shock. _What_?

"Do you think the Bifrost is the only way in and out of this realm? There are passages between worlds to which even you, with all your gifts, are blind. But I have need of them no longer, now that I am king. And I say, for your act of treason, you are relieved of your duties as gatekeeper and no longer citizen of Asgard."

Loki's tone varies so quickly, from scorn to mockery to pride to anger.

But…Loki just confirmed what Heimdall said.

Loki led the frost giants into Asgard.

So that's it.

But _why_?

"Then I need no longer obey you!" Heimdall roars, drawing his sword.

That snaps Sigyn out of it. _Just a trick, only a trick, there's purpose, there is a reason for everything…_

Sigyn whips out her short sword and jumps back, close to Loki, preparing to defend her king.

But Loki is holding something, and Sigyn's skin is freezing, so cold, and Heimdall—he's freezing solid—sword outstretched—he's turning into a block of ice—and _Loki is blue_.

And then Loki makes a motion, and the Casket of Ancient Winters (_what else could it be?_) vanishes.

And he returns, ever so slowly, to normal Aesir color.

Sigyn relishes the sudden, intense warmth on her skin—and does not envy Heimdall. Is it possible he is still alive? Aesir are tough. But either way, he's not going anywhere.

Loki glances at Sigyn, eyes searching, and, _afraid_—of her reaction.

Sigyn just raises her eyebrows.

Loki smirks—ever so slightly—and his eyes warm with a hint of smile. Then his face hardens—and he paces into the Bifrost.

Sigyn follows. Loki activates the Bifrost by placing Gungnir in the podium.

"Where do you travel?" Sigyn asks.

Loki turns on her, eyes hard and focused.

"Jotunheim. I will lure Laufey here, and kill him. Tell no one, and guard the Bifrost until my return."

Sigyn shifts her grip on the short sword, and nods tersely.

Loki disappears in a flash of light. Sigyn casts a spell, and becomes invisible.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ohhh…..I am soooo late. And really sorry guys! My main story at the moment is 'Sagacity', so it's updated more regularly…although even that one is drooping right now because my life is crazy…**

**And from June 21 to like June 29, I'll be at…another…church camp.**

**SORRY!**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Sigyn waits—invisible and fairly patient, keeping an eye on the Bifrost and frozen Heimdall.

When Loki has not returned within half an hour, she begins to pace.

Sigyn rarely paces.

Sigyn already knows what she looks like. She has paced in her bedchambers a few times over the years—back and forth, passing her mirror, occasionally catching glimpses of the wild red hair, the blazing amber-red eyes.

But Sigyn has never been so furious in all her life. Restless, trapped, and thirsting for blood.

But she has not gone mad, with all her wrath. No, the fire is not crackling. It is glowing—steady—and her mind is quick and active. Calm under pressure. Brilliant under duress. As ever. But also, ready to burst into a fireball that will leave only a few unscathed.

Sigyn lays her plans, as brilliantly as she can manage without Loki there to help her.

They'll travel to Midgard together, and slay the traitors. Or bring them back prisoner; it would be the merciful, royalty thing to do. She could probably live with life sentences. It wouldn't be the first time Sigyn was merciful; it was rare to be sure, but in matters like this—well, Sif was the main instigator, wasn't she?

Sigyn always disliked Sif—the Shield Maiden, always so cheeky and proud, so sure she was someone _special_. She always did take it for granted that she would be Thor's bride, and Asgard's queen.

Sigyn has held in her loyal wrath on that subject for centuries. No, it would not be a stretch to kill Sif.

But The Warriors Three—oh, it is so much worse with the Warriors. Because Sigyn does not dislike them as a whole. She viewed Fandral as a rather harmless, slightly amusing child, and Volstagg—though very greedy and self-centered, was not presumptuous and foolish like the others. And she held great respect for Hogun—he who was quiet and wise, an excellent warrior, hailing from Vanaheim yet pledging allegiance to Odin all the same.

And there, Sigyn discovers a loophole for her respected comrade.

Hogun never allied himself with Asgard. Only Odin. And was therefore a free man.

Although Sigyn is still frustrated that Hogun did not see through Loki's ploy—or at least guess something was amiss (_how many centuries had they known each other?_)—she can excuse him.

But the others—perhaps, prison for Volstagg and Fandral, and death for Sif?

Of course, the ultimate decision would lay with Loki—as would the farsightedness, and little intricacies of, her general plan.

Forty-five minutes, and her King has not yet returned.

Her first warrior's impulse would be to activate the Bifrost—go to Jotunheim and do whatever it takes to bring them both back safely. Sigyn is hardly worried about the Frost Giants; the two of them can handle any army, and have done so many times. If Sigyn knew he was actually in trouble, she would go—swift and furious and incinerating everything in her path.

But reason forbids that impulse; Loki expressly ordered her to guard the Bifrost until his return.

So she paces. Watching the stars for disturbance, watching Heimdall, watching Asgard.

And then the Bifrost opens.

Sigyn instantly halts her pacing, walks off to the side to wait, remaining invisible. Loki is pulled through oblivion and lands standing, Gungnir in hand, straight and tall—looking very like a king. The Bifrost shudders to a complete stop, Sigyn shimmers back into the visible sphere, and raises an eyebrow.

Loki strides past her. Sigyn follows, waiting, knowing that he will speak. Halfway down the Bridge, he does—quick and terse, clipped of emotion. "I send The Destroyer."

"What of the mortals?"

Something untoward creeps into her tone (_is it distrust?_), and Loki snaps his reply.

"Those who've seen them, will die. The miserable race, will survive."

Sigyn does not react to the bitter taste in his words. Again, it is quite acceptable. Surely the traitors couldn't have traveled far, and it would never do for Midgardians to seriously consider life beyond their realm.

"Hogun," she says quickly, surprising herself. "Hogun only swore to Odin. Although not innocent of wrongdoing, he did not commit treason."

There is a pause, a silence hanging heavier that the swift movement of feet and the rustling of leathers.

"How do you propose I deal with that?" Loki growls. "Bring him back? Send him to Vanaheim? Leave him on Midgard? No, Sigyn—I am only the Prince Regent, acting in place of the still-reigning Allfather. Hogun must die with the rest."

Sigyn cannot really argue with the logic of that—the justice. But there is another question, which Sigyn suddenly fears to ask.

"What of Thor?"

Loki does not turn, does not look her in the eyes, does not appear to react. And after an almost indecipherable pause—

"He will survive."

Sigyn's eyes narrow. Arrogance on Thor's part was one thing, but for Loki to threaten the life of Thor is unacceptable. Not that the trickster would even infer such a thing—but Sigyn _knows him_.

And there is a desperation in Loki's eyes—a desperations so carefully concealed, that Sigyn herself hardly catches it. But it is there. And she fears for Thor.

"And if he does not?"

Her words, at first glance, seemed to be a light question. But there was enough of an edge to her tone—and edge that probably only Loki, or possibly Frigga, could pick up—an edge as hard as diamonds and sharp as daggers, an edge that promised and threatened and doubted.

And finally—Loki looks at her.

"Then I suppose I will be the only heir."

He delivers the shocking statement with a devil-may-care smile (_tinged with madness…what manner of trick is this, Loki?_), bold green eyes daring her to challenge him.

But it is a mask.

Sigyn knows him, and it is a mask, and the entire scheme is a ploy—a trick—and plausible as it may seem—all of Loki's plots and traps are plausible, are they not? Everything he ever faked had a hint of truth, every attitude and farce he put on for the benefit of _what was expected_, all of it was believable—shockingly believable—because it had to be. And that's what made him so skilled at deception.

But even knowing all that—there are layers and levels and hidden rooms to Loki that no one can keep up with.

And one of the biggest truths Sigyn had to learn in order to comprehend some of Loki's actions was this:

On some level—he means all of it.

Every word. Every action. Every gesture. Every plot, ploy, scheme, and device he ever laid.

Outwardly, it was as if he was just trying out different things—poking beasts with sticks to see what will happen—and then declaring it all a joke, in good fun. Because he was the Trickster—Silvertongue—and that was the expectation.

But Sigyn knows him.

Directly under his act, Loki is just testing this new idea—just curious to see what will happen. But far underneath _that_ layer—Loki does mean it. He might do it. For whatever reason, he might really and truly do this.

What will he do, what will Loki become, to fulfill expectations? How far will he go to prove that _he can_?

And suddenly—Sigyn is no longer angry. She is afraid. She is terrified.

And even more frightening—what is Loki's real goal?

Because every plot has double motives, hidden motives, always a motive and usually several motives—twisted and mixed, to be sure, but always there.

Only, usually—Sigyn can immediately discern what his end goal is.

And the main goal is never what he comes out and admits to.

They are nearly to the end of the bridge now, and Sigyn realizes she has not yet answered Loki's statement. Thankfully her eyes do not betray—through much practice (_and association with Loki, who can read people even better than books_), her amber eyes remain emotionless and blank whenever she's thinking.

And Sigyn also remains silent with her lips.

But suddenly—her eyes transform as Sigyn, quite frankly, laughs up at her oldest friend. Lets Loki know that for all his seriousness, she sees through him—and he is not fooling her, and it amuses her that he still tries.

And for her trouble, she sees a small bit of relief within bright green eyes.

But they are still confused eyes—clouded. And swirling with an emotional turmoil. And suddenly, Sigyn is no longer amused.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so this chapter didn't take us anywhere. I know, I'm horrible at 'stage setting'…things will pick up soon, I promise!**

**But...June 21 is MY BIRTHDAY! WHOOP!**

**And (as all FanFic writers know) reviews/favs/follows are the best presents of all time!**

**;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sooo much thanks to everyone who faved/followed/reviewed/subscribed! Literally made my day coming back to a stuffed email inbox :) *Blows kisses all round***

**On another note…WHOOPS! I posted the wrong first chapter. It's fixed now :) Thanks soooo much to SeverusPrince101 for bringing that to my attention! **

**(If anyone's interested in what happens to Carly, check out my other story "Sagacity".)**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

The only word that comes readily to mind is _brutes_.

It has nothing to do with the blue skin, really it doesn't. It's their posture—hunched, like common beasts. And their jerky, less-than-coordinated motions. They are the type of beings you half-expect to trip over their own feet and impale themselves with ice of their own making.

And these brutes are Sigyn's responsibility.

There are no introductions.

The beasts lumber out of the Bifrost. Four of them, including Laufey. One of them stops to guard the frozen Heimdall, still on the Bridge. Laufey and the other two warriors approach her.

Sigyn stands straight. She may be dwarfed by these creatures, but she is not intimidated.

"Welcome. It is understood that you will follow my directives."

"Where is the trickster?" Laufey rasps slowly.

"Loki is naturally on the throne, attending to the business of the kingdom," Sigyn says. "He cannot risk being absent."

Loki is actually waiting, invisible, in Odin's chambers.

"And you…my lady?"

"Excuse me?" Sigyn says, rather shortly. Laufey's voice—deep and odd, very scratchy and slow—is beginning to grate on Sigyn's nerves. That and the constant tension.

Sigyn is also gathering her magic—Norns know it will drain her, to conceal them throughout the streets of Asgard. Many complicated spells—different spell types and purposes—several per creature—as well as herself—and if they don't respond to her magic, what then?

"Are you the…future queen?"

How dare that _creature_ imply such a thing! Sigyn's amber eyes gleam unpleasantly.

"No."

Her tone leaves no question in the air. Sigyn weaves her hands together, concentrates, and spins her magic. Sigyn is a mage—common magicians must use magical staffs, whereas mages do not need any magical implements. Rather rare, and always very powerful. Sigyn is the second most powerful mage in the known Realms—second only to Loki. That kind of competition she does not really mind.

The spells fall lightly—enshrouding them in a mist the color of deep rubies—of course only Sigyn can see it. That is—if the Jotuns are governed by the same rules of Magic as are the Asgardians. That is assuming the Jotuns are even aware of Magic.

With a jolt, Sigyn realizes that Loki is a Jotun. And he is more powerful than she. An uncomfortable unease settles to the bottom of her ribcage...those impassive red eyes are setting her on edge.

Usually her magic calms her. But definitely not today.

When Sigyn has finished, she is rather weak—that many complicated spells in such a short time would be exhausting for any mage. Sigyn quickly goes outside her mind to check—and the spells are working. They are all invisible to outward eyes.

She starts off swiftly—the Jotuns keep up, one plodding step to her two. She practically runs down the Rainbow Bridge—the sooner these monsters are dead, the better for Asgard. Of course they must never suspect…her mind swirls with calculations on the proper protocol for an Asgardian mage who is helping the Prince Regent kill the King.

Of course there is no precedent.

Asgard itself is a nightmare. People everywhere on the streets. Sigyn is forced to cast more complicated spells so they can pass through other people, thoroughly draining her. The Jotuns gawk, but thankfully cannot disturb anything, or hurt anyone. Sigyn has seen to that.

Of course, she will have to release all the spells once they are near Odin's chambers.

If this plan does not work exactly how Loki says it will…

Sigyn dismisses the thought, concentrating on getting the Frost Giants through the palace guards. Her magic is nearly gone, but she manages a teleportation spell that lands them just outside Odin's doors.

Her heart has betrayed her—it is beating so rapidly her face feels flushed.

But Sigyn carefully releases each spell. There are no guards outside; Loki has seen to that—But, Frigga! For a half-second Sigyn hesitates—surely the Queen will be alright? All Laufey wants is Odin killed, correct?

But Loki is in there.

Frigga will be fine, then. No harm will come to her on Loki's watch—of that Sigyn is completely, utterly certain.

Sigyn carefully molds her face into an expressionless mask, releasing every spell, revealing the Frost Giants. Her magic is gone, but releasing the strain of the spells is already helping her magic rebound. Sigyn steps back, and motions for the brutes to enter.

Oh, Norns. If this goes wrong in any capacity—

Sigyn pulls up her last morsel of magic and casts a seeing spell inside the room.

The warrior Jotuns push open the door, and ice spreads across the gold. Laufey walks straight in. Frigga instantly leaves Odin—standing in front of the bed, to protect him, sword clenched firmly in her hand. She walks forward and swings the sword, slashing to kill Laufey, but the Frost Giant carelessly knocks her aside.

The queen falls, and rolls over on the ground, stifling a cry of pain.

Sigyn takes a step closer to the doorway and puts a hand on the hilt of her short sword. One of the Frost Giants turn, and it bares it teeth at her like an animal. Sigyn glares but does not press. The Jotun King does not pursue Frigga anyway. The warriors remain in the doorway. Laufey walks over to Odin's bed and looks down at him.

_Now, Loki!_ The cry rushes to Sigyn's lips, to her mind, but she checks herself.

Laufey steps up onto the bed and looms over Odin. He reaches towards the Allfather's face—Sigyn shifts her view quickly—a huge blue thumb and finger—with black fingernails—slide open the lids of Odin's eye. Fairly gently for such a creature. Odin's good eye is a frightening, sightless, pale blue orb.

"It is said you can still hear and see what transpires around you," Laufey rasps. "I hope it's true. So that you may know—your death came, at the hand of Laufey."

An ice blade forms in Laufey's clenched fist. He raises the ice blade, ready to plunge it into Odin's heart.

Sigyn steps forward, sweeping the room to ensure that Loki is there—

A blast of golden magic hits Laufey from behind and he flies off Odin, onto the floor. Loki materializes, Gungnir in his hands.

"And _your_ death came by the son of Odin."

Another blast from Gungir, and Laufey simply disappears in a shower of golden magic-dust.

The other Frost Giants are shocked—but they move forward, surprisingly agile for such large beasts. Loki raises Gungnir and shoots one of them into oblivion. Sigyn releases her seeing spell and bursts into room. She runs forward and leaps onto the Frost Giant's back just as he is beginning to turn. Her trusty short sword is plunged deep into the beast's neck.

The Jotun falls with a bellow, and Sigyn cries out with pain—she accidently touched the abominable creature's skin, and it froze her fingers—like a horrible, horrible case of frostburn—she jumps off the creature and gingerly holds out her trembling hand. Ice crystals cling to her black and blue skin.

But her magic—she has almost none left.

Sigyn carefully gather up the small bit that has rebounded, and concentrates on a healing spell. But it is taking far longer than usual. Before she can actually cast the spell, a wash of tingling magic sweeps over her hand and arm, healing the frostburns.

Sigyn cautiously lets go of the spell and looks up. Loki is a few feet away, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Loki!" Frigga cries joyfully.

Frigga runs to Loki and hugs him. Loki shoots Sigyn one quick, intense look—hugs Frigga quickly, steps back and holds her shoulders so he can see her face.

"I swear to you, mother, they will pay for what they've done today."

Sigyn recovers her short sword. There is an almost indiscernible rush of wind—indiscernible to most, but keenly felt by a mage like Sigyn—then heavy footsteps—Sigyn glances up and her mouth drops slightly open.

Thor.

Mjolnir in hand.

Dressed in his armor.

Sigyn quickly closes her mouth and straightens up, wiping the Jotun's blood off her short sword. But Thor is not looking at her. His eyes are staring beyond her—fixed on Loki. And the look in those blue eyes—the expression on his face—is anything but joyous.

He almost seems—betrayed.

Unease creeps into Sigyn's heart. Surely, the Destroyer did not target Thor?

"Why don't you tell her?"

Thor's voice is loud—and—and _hurt_. Angry.

"How you sent the Destroyer to kill our friends, to kill me!?"

Horror pervades Sigyn's heart, and she makes no effort to conceal the emotion running plainly across her face. No one is looking at her anyway. She spins to look at Loki—to find out if it is true—

"What?" Frigga gasps softly.

Loki's face is a complete mask. "Well, I must have been enforcing father's last command."

"You're a talented liar, brother. Always have been."

Thor enters the room and Loki moves subtly, jockeying for the best position—to _fight _from.

"It's good to have you back. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to destroy Jotunheim."

Loki raises Gungnir suddenly and fires it at Thor. Thor flies backwards, smashing through the chamber walls. A crash signifies he made it through the next wall as well—and after that, he is outside and falling. Probably going to land in the Reflection Pools.

Of course, Thor will survive. That is hardly the problem.

* * *

**A/N:****Well, there's some changes coming up: In JULY, I'm participating in Camp NaNoWriMo (google it, it's awesome, recommend for all writers!). **

**Anyway. I'm working on a real book, and I won't have time for this or my other story. But after July I'll try to get myself in gear!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**

**To all my American readers: HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!**

**To my British readers: *throws a firecracker at you* (laughs like a maniac)**

**To my readers from the rest of the world: YOU'RE WELCOME! (We know we're awesome. Except for our president. He's not. He's definitely not. For him, we're sorry.)**

**:D**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Loki dashes from the room, leaving Sigyn and Frigga speechless.

Frigga slowly turns white. At the last second Sigyn realizes what that means, and rushes forward to catch her as the queen falls. She lowers Frigga to the ground, sticks her short sword in its sheath, and reaches inward to test her magic. To her delight it is growing quite steadily, so she casts a spell to rouse Frigga.

Blood rushes to the queen's lips and she jolts awake. After half a second of staring a Sigyn's face, tears pool up to cloud the bright blue eyes Sigyn has come to love. They stay locked on Sigyn with an intensity she has never seen before.

"Frigga," she whispers, fighting the tears herself.

"He's sinking."

Frigga whispers the words so softly Sigyn can barely hear them. But she does. Sigyn's first thought is of Thor, falling to the ground below—but surely he has hit by now. Probably up and running after Loki.

No, the queen does not speak of her eldest son. The words are not meant to be literal. And with a jolt of pain, Sigyn realizes it is true.

"I swore to you—and I will swear again: I will do all in my power, to save him." Sigyn means every word. A passion she has never before felt rises in her chest, swelling with a fire that seems to know no end and suddenly she is sure that _she will_—she will do whatever it takes, she will go beyond the very pits of Hel to save him. And she is not doing it for the queen—but rather for Loki—and herself.

Sigyn straightens, and offers Frigga aid to help her up off the ground. Frigga shakes her head and lies back weakly. Tears spill from the corners of her closed eyes and trickle silently down, splashing and puddling on the floor. Sigyn quickly squeezes her hand, but she cannot wait any longer—Loki may not need her, but she is damned well going to be available. She backs away—locates Loki—he is flinging himself wildly onto his waiting horse, galloping madly toward the Rainbow Bridge. Sigyn withdraws, tests her magic—she still has quite a bit left—and teleports just outside the Bifrost Observatory.

Heimdall is no longer outside, frozen in place with sword outstretched. Shards of ice are scattered across the Bridge. Sigyn spins—the Observatory is empty. She can see them—far down the bridge—Volstagg helping an obviously injured Heimdall, and Hogun helping Fandral, and Sif.

Conflicted, Sigyn pauses—Loki will not be here for several more minutes. And maybe—just maybe she was too hard on them. Would she not have done the same for Loki?

Sigyn teleports to their side. They all start—with a practiced eye Sigyn takes them in, looking for injuries. Sif and Volstagg are bleeding—they have frostburn covering their shaking hands and arms. Volstagg's beard is completely frozen. Fandral is limping, leaning on Hogun—Hogun's arm looks broken, and frostburned as well.

Heimdall, she cannot help—the ice—a worse case of frostburn she never hopes to see. It has injured his skin far too severely for her limited healing knowledge, and there must internal damage as well. The gatekeeper appears to be drifting in and out of consciousness—very nearly dead.

"Go to Eir," Sigyn says tersely.

"Sigyn," Fandral cries. His voice is a strange mixture of relief and fear and uncertainty and pain. "What has happened? There were Frost Giants at the Observatory—they have not conquered Asgard!?"

"Of course not! There is no time to explain!" Sigyn cries. "Go, all of you! I cannot help him—Heimdall will die!"

Loki is coming, but the bridge is long—and Sigyn knows, with a sudden certainty, that she does not want the warriors dead. Whatever treason they have committed—these are the warriors she has fought side-by-side with. And how many times has she come to Heimdall with a question or theory? These are difficult times—her snap judgment may be wrong—and she cannot leave them to die.

Sigyn glances down the bridge and sees Loki, far away—on horseback—riding towards them like the Furies.

Sigyn wraps a protecting spell around her hands, reaches out and grabs Volstagg and Heimdall by their frostburned arms. Volstagg grunts with pain. "Sorry," Sigyn says. She collects her magic, visualizes Eir's healing room, and teleports all three of them.

Landing, she calls out for help and assists Volstagg in getting Heimdall on the table. Eir, the head healer, rushes in from the next room. The table instantly powers up and Eir sets to work. Other healers run in and begin tending to Volstagg. Sigyn is already gone, back to the Bridge, reappearing not even a minute after she left.

Sigyn has never tried to transport three people at one time—the unwritten limit is two. But they are all badly hurt, and should Loki get the opportunity he will most certainly kill them. Not that she really blames him—but now that they have returned, the warriors should at least get a fair trial.

Sigyn grabs Hogun's good arm and touches Sif as lightly as she can. "Fandral. Grab my wrist," Sigyn says tersely. He does. Sif begins to say something, but Sigyn barks "Not now!" and closes her eyes to concentrate. If she does not complete the successful transportation of all four, they will all become lost—drifting halfway between dimensions, in stasis for eons unless they accidently tumble out.

Signy breathes out slowly, gathers much more of her magic than is needed, and teleports. There is a flash of ruby red behind her eyelids, and Sigyn carefully opens her eyes. They are all four standing in Eir's healing room.

She lets out a long, slow breath of relief, and releases the others. They do not necessarily need her help, but she stays anyway. She turns to Fandral first, because he is injured the least. She kneels down, conjures a spell, and with a burst of healer's magic Fandral's broken leg heals. Relief spreads across his face. He is burned, cut, mildly frostburned and his perfect hair is messed up—but thank the Norns, he is alive!

They were all very tight friends—once.

Sigyn idly wonders just what happened, to make them grow apart—so abruptly as well. But far more pressing is the matter of _what happened_ today—and what Loki is doing at the moment. What is his goal? Did the Destroyer really target Thor, or was he just in the way? And knowing Thor—he would be in the way.

But surely—_surely_ Loki would _never_ try to kill his brother!

Surely not.

But anxiety fills her heart and bile rises in her throat. And Sigyn quickly stands—ready to rush out of the room.

"Sigyn—what happened?"

It is Sif. The Shield Maiden is shaking with pain—frostburn is one of the most painful injuries an Aesir can endure—but still, her bright black eyes snap with energy. And on everyone's face is the consternation of realizing that something horrible has happened—is _still happening_.

And suddenly, Sigyn feels no anger towards any of them—only an understanding. A new desire to repair strained relationships. And the need for support.

"Loki sent the Destroyer to kill you," Sigyn says hoarsely. "I supported his decision—at the time. You were traitors! Also, Loki lured Laufey to Asgard—and killed him."

Mixed emotions flit wildly over their faces. Fandral, Volstagg and Sif all start to speak at the same time—questions, no doubt—but Sigyn holds up her hand. "Not now. I must go."

Signy puts a hand on her short sword—wildly hopes that she will find no use for it—and teleports back to the Rainbow Bridge.

Constant in her mind, are the queen's words:

_He is sinking._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Well, this is it! Here's the song of the chapter: "OVERBOARD" by MANAFEST**

**PLEASE look it up! The emotions are sooo perfectly preserved in this song!**

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

The first thing Sigyn registers is the noise.

The roaring, pounding noise of surf breaking up—of waterfalls—of floods. Water. Even from this far away, she can see and hear the disturbance.

The second thing she notices is the light. From far away, it seems to encase the whole of the Bifrost Observatory. Close up, it must be blinding. She can sense the colossal waves of power rolling from the shockwaves.

Sigyn cannot see either of them from this far out, and she begins to run. How did the Bifrost factor into this mess? Surely Loki hasn't—surely he _wouldn't_ test that theory without at least some basic trial runs? And especially not _now_—

Several millennia ago, the two of them developed a theory about the Universe outside Yggdrasil. They concluded that life may possibly exist outside the known Realms, and Loki had mentioned possibly using the Bifrost to transport them there.

But surely he wouldn't try to travel that far without running tests? Such a journey—if it were in fact possible—may very well kill the traveler.

As Sigyn runs, the Bridge shudders. It shifts deep inside—the massive structure itself shakes and Sigyn can sense it in her bones. There is a sense of thrumming, intense power, and then the light grows to a blinding firestorm. The shockwaves grow so intensely that Sigyn is beginning to feel the first waves of already broken-in energy.

Her first thought as a mage, is that a very large, previously unbroken portal is being used for the first time. But even that doesn't make any sense—in such a scenario, why would the water react at all? And the Bridge would not shake.

Sigyn still cannot see anything. Is Loki alone, or is Thor here as well? Are they inside? Doing _what_? She would've liked to believe that Loki would've at least given her the option of voyaging Beyond. But perhaps her instincts are wrong.

Finally, Sigyn abandons all restraint and teleports to the mouth of the Observatory. But her concentration isn't precise and she ends up about three-quarters of the way down the Bridge.

And she can see them. Loki, halfway between her and the Observatory, lying on the Bridge. Thor, closer to the Observatory—as Sigyn watches he calls Mjolnir to him, and stands still for a moment.

Sigyn halts, a bit puzzled. Nothing about the scene makes any sense—until she finally sees the beam streaming from the Observatory's outlet.

And then, she could not move if she tried. She stands frozen in disbelief. The Bifrost—if left open, it will tear apart its target. And the exact target is not necessarily a _mystery_.

Effective. Decisive. And sure to succeed.

Sigyn herself is a great believer in striking first, fierce, and once.

But something about it—seems wrong. Less like the deliberate, wise actions of a king, and more like desperation—like mad revenge for an imagined slight.

Motivations aside, it's—_appalling_ to destroy an entire realm.

Appalling—but not unprecedented. Millennia ago, King Bor annihilated the Dark Elves—an act that is now applauded. Perhaps he faced a moral dilemma as well. And as a result of his decisiveness, the Realms live in peace millennia later.

But the threat of the Dark Elves was truly dire—far greater than Jotun threat. There has been uneasy peace for a long time between the two Realms. And the Frost Giants no longer possess the Casket of Ancient Winters. With Laufey dead, it is quite possible that the Jotuns will reconcile.

Thor raises Mjolnir—and smashes it down onto the Bridge.

And again. And again.

Sigyn's mouth falls open and she takes an involuntary step forward as Thor begins to destroy the Bridge in real earnest.

Helpless, frozen in indecision, Sigyn watches as the crown prince severs Asgard's tie to the Nine Realms. The Bridge shudders desperately, and begins to crack.

And Loki is up—moving like he is injured, yelling something to Thor—then when he gets no reply, running with Gungir to attack his brother from behind.

Sigyn tries to yell something, starts to move forward, but with one last blow Thor finally succeeds. The Bridge begins to break apart—slow at first, then a massive shockwave just as Loki jumps into the air, coming down to kill Thor—and chaos ensues. Thor and Loki both fly into the sky, riding a shockwave. One catches Sigyn and she falls down, struggling to stay on the Bridge itself.

Waves build and mount around the Observatory, and with one last groan and lurch the Observatory and a good chunk of Bridge breaks free—and falls into oblivion. The waves crash down and the debris begins to rain down, the water falls into a giant waterfall spilling into space—

Thor and Loki have both disappeared.

Gone down with the Observatory, down into oblivion.

A strangled cry escapes her throat as she fights to her feet and dashes down the Bridge.

There is a bright flash of golden magic, and Odin himself stands on the very edge of the Bridge—reaching down—holding onto something.

Or _someone_.

And Sigyn runs.

She nears them just in time to hear Odin's saddened words.

"No, Loki."

Sigyn runs the last few lengths, falling to her knees on the edge in preparation to pull Loki back onto the Bridge. Thor is there, and Loki—unashamed relief floods her heart and face. Whatever this is, they can _work it out_. It can be made right again. He is _alive_.

But with that one quick glance at Loki's face, consternation fills her soul.

And it is confirmed with Thor's heartrending cry.

As Loki lets go.

A cry of pain escapes Sigyn's heart, and travels to her lips. And it buys her one last moment of connection with suddenly anguished green eyes, as Loki falls into the void.

_He is falling._

And Sigyn _must_ save him.

She makes her decision, and dives head-first over the edge into space.

Sigyn has every intention of returning.

* * *

**A/N: Did you actually look up the song of chapter? Because it is seriously PERFECT. Captures the emotion wonderfully. **

**"****Overboard" by Manafest.**

***We gotta wake up, we gotta save us, so baby hang on—I'm coming after you, I'm diving overboard!***


End file.
